Qden Blaauw  Sunday 3rd May 2026
 

ABOUT THE MUSIC

Bach: Partita No. 2 in C minor, BWV 826

In the first half of the 1700s, the term partita referred simply to an assortment of shorter pieces. Bach composed six such sets during the late 1720s, and in 1731, he grouped them together to form the first volume in his magnificent Clavier-Übung (Keyboard Practice). A North German seriousness underlies all four instalments of the Clavier-Übung, and this trait is on full display in the Partita No. 2.

The opening Sinfonia begins in the style of a French overture with a stately, regal passage that is filled with fanfare-like dotted rhythms (pa-DAM pa-DAM pa-DAM) fit for a royal entrance. Rather than going directly into the expected fugal section, Bach diverges from the norm by providing a lyrical passage with two separate melodic lines, one for each hand, that simultaneously unfold and interact with each other. Next comes the awaited fugal section, during which the same musical material is passed between the hands. Following the Sinfonia comes an exquisite pair of courtly dances: a gentler Allemande and a more robust Courante, both of which display a sort of gliding quality. This is due to the massive clothing worn by the dancers of the time that kept them close to the ground and limited their vertical agility. A contemplative Sarabande follows, and the partita concludes with two faster movements, a lively Rondeau and a bravura-filled Capriccio. These dances fall in the category of galanterie, a term used at the time to describe lighter pieces that exude a sense of chivalry, politeness and courtesy. Bach dedicated his entire Clavier-Übung to ‘music lovers, for the delight of their spirits’, and the partita we’ll hear this afternoon most certainly achieves this goal.

Mozart: Piano Sonata No. 13, K. 333 (315c)

After touring around Europe with his sister Nannerl as child prodigies, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart maintained an active performing career throughout his short life. In fact, Mozart wrote most of his piano music to perform personally, whether solo sonatas or concertos for piano and orchestra. The sonata we’ll hear this afternoon was likely written in late 1783 or early 1784, when Mozart and his wife, Constanze, were travelling from his home town of Salzburg back to Vienna.

The sonata is in three movements, as was typical of the time: fast-slow-faster. The first movement radiates melodic elegance. A sense of dramatic intensity emerges in its middle section amidst the fragmentation and manipulation of the main theme. The second movement is especially notable for its serene opening and subsequent dramatic harmonic shifts. Sometimes these centre on the white keys and at other times on the black ones. The overall playful charm of the final movement is enhanced through demanding scalar passages and the surprise appearance of a cadenza, the improvisatory passage one would expect to find in a concerto and not in a sonata. Here, though, Mozart writes out every note; nothing is left to chance.

Chopin: Ballade No. 3, Op. 47

Born in Poland, Frédéric Chopin made his career in Paris. As a pianist and as a composer, he much preferred the intimacy of domestic salons to the spectacle of large concert halls. In the nineteenth century, many musicians sought to meld the domains of music and the written word, including Chopin. A ballade, musically, is akin to a ballad, a story. However, for Chopin, the story is the music itself and not any sort of extra-musical narrative. Some, though, believe that the Ballade No. 3, completed in 1841, was inspired by Adam Mickiewicz’s poem ‘Undine’, and published scores sometimes carry this as a descriptive subtitle.

The Third Ballade is especially notable for its prominence of octaves, both melodically and in the virtuosic scalar runs that occur throughout the piece. Furthermore, the overall motion recalls standard rhythmic patterns of ancient Greek poetry, especially trochaic – a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one (or in music, a longer note followed by a shorter one) – and iambic – an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed one (or a shorter note followed by a longer one). The ballade’s dance-like sections likewise serve as aural reminders of Chopin’s dances for solo piano, namely his delightful mazurka, polonaises and waltzes.

Liszt: La leggierezza (Trois études de concert, No. 2)

Like Chopin, Franz Liszt was a foreign-born (in Liszt’s case Hungarian) composer and pianist who initially established his career in Paris. Unlike Chopin, however, Liszt left Paris and toured extensively, largely in the German-speaking world. Also unlike Chopin, Liszt preferred massive concert halls to the cosiness of the salon. He made this preference clear in the eventual title of the publication from which our next selection comes, Trois études de concert (Three Concert Etudes, 1845-1849). These were pieces that posed particular technical challenges (as etudes, or study pieces, do), yet they were conceived to be entirely appropriate for large concert venues.

La leggierezza (Lightness), the second of the set, calls for nimbleness alongside its daunting technical demands. The score includes a host of reminders about the piece’s fragility through indications such as ‘dolce egualmente’ (equally sweet), ‘leggero con grazia’ (lightly with grace) and ‘delicatamente’ (delicately). La leggierezza’s resplendent chromatic runs and dramatic chordal cascades add to its capricious and spontaneous atmosphere. It truly is music for a spring afternoon.

Rachmaninoff: Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42

The Russian pianist, composer and conductor Sergei Rachmaninoff was famous for his unabated Romanticism. He wrote his Variations on a Theme of Corelli, op. 42, his last major work for solo piano, in 1931 while at his holiday home in Switzerland. The theme which Rachmaninoff chose for the set was not in fact by the Baroque composer and violinist Arcangelo Corelli but rather dated back to at least as early as the late 1400s. Many composers over the centuries have created variation sets on the famous ‘La Folia’ (‘Madness’) tune, including Corelli in a famous set for violin and keyboard from 1700. It is perhaps because of the theme’s association with the violin that Rachmaninoff dedicated the variations to his friend, the eminent violinist Fritz Kreisler.

The compact set includes twenty short variations, as well as an intermezzo and a coda. On the whole, Variations on a Theme of Corelli carries a sense of unsettledness that at some points turns to despair. To the pianist Boris Giltburg, several variations resemble ‘a dark fairy tale’. The transparent opening, with its direct statement of ‘La Folia’, increasingly gives way to the thick textures and dense harmonies associated with Rachmaninoff. Some variations are more literal, with the theme remaining recognisable, while others are more abstract and harmonically adventurous. Rachmaninoff’s deeply personal Variations on a Theme of Corelli is akin to a musical kaleidoscope that the pianist keeps turning to reveal new patterns, colours and shapes.

Ravel: Jeux d’eau

The French musician Maurice Ravel is the only composer on today’s programme who did enjoy a successful parallel career as a performer. He was, however, a most capable pianist as well as a fine conductor. Importantly, his own experience as a pianist gave him the practical knowledge to write idiomatically for the instrument, especially as he was greatly expanding its sound palette. One case in point is Jeux d’eau (1901), the title of which can be translated literally as ‘water games’.

Jeux d’eau includes several musical features associated with the style known as Impressionism. The movement began in the French visual arts and is linked to painters such as Claude Monet. Its characteristic features include fuzzy images, soft pastel colours, subjects drawn from nature – especially water and the sky – and the play of light. Ravel was one of several composers (alongside the French composer Claude Debussy and his English contemporary Frederick Delius) who transfers these visual attributes into musical sounds. Going beyond painting, Ravel also brings together, in Jeux d’eau, the worlds of poetry and music. He does so by including a line from the poem ‘Fête d’eaux’ (Water Festival) by Henri de Régnier as an epigraph: ‘The River God laughing at the waters that tickle him’. With its synthesis of music, painting and poetry, Jeux d’eau is fine example of artistic interconnectedness and one that provides a joyous listening experience.

– Notes by William Everett

ABOUT THE PERFORMER

Born in South Africa, Qden Blaauw is a dynamic young pianist who is passionate about connecting with audiences whenever and wherever he performs. A full scholarship student at the Royal Academy of Music in London, he has appeared as a soloist with most of South Africa’s leading orchestras and has already earned numerous international prizes and accolades. Creative exploration and imaginative performances lie at the core of his artistic pursuits, which include recent multidisciplinary collaborations with visual artists such as Robin Rhode. This afternoon’s performance is kindly supported by Making Music's Philip and Dorothy Green Young Artists Scheme.